.


Hate

"You were my best friend, one I was born to hate."


"I hate him," said James, his small hands balled into fists. "I don't want a brother."

"That's not a very nice thing to say, James," said Ginny, not unkindly, reaching out to lift her son into her arms. She groaned. He was a skinny boy, all arms and legs, but he was heavier than she remembered, and she was still recovering from giving birth to Albus. She heard the floo go off in the other room, and guessing it was Harry, she turned her attention back to her son.

Sitting down on the kitchen chair and running a hand through his soft hair, she wished that she could understand what her son was feeling. She was the youngest of seven siblings, and she'd never had to contend with there being a new baby in the house who needed almost all the attention.

"But I don't," he continued, ignoring her. His eyes were wide as he looked up at her. "I like it just being me and you and Daddy."

Ginny shook her head, not knowing what to say. Thinking of how best to phrase her reply so as not to cause more harm than good, she was interrupted by the sound of footsteps entering the kitchen. Looking up, she saw George walk in, his expression letting her know that he'd heard every word. She shook herself. Merlin, she had forgotten that George had agreed to take James off for a playdate with little Fred today, and with a quick glance at the clock, she realized that he'd probably come looking after she'd failed to drop James off on time. Mouthing a greeting to her brother, she paused when he simply nodded and took a seat across from them.

"You know, James, having a brother isn't that bad. I have quite a few myself," he said. Leaning in conspiratorially, he whispered, "One of them is even younger than me."

"Did you want a brother, then?" James asked, "You can have Albus."

Ginny sighed as George's face seemed to fall, ever so slightly, but he recovered just as quickly. Reaching out, he ruffled his nephew's hair, though his grin seemed a bit forced as he spoke.

"A brother is forever, James. Having one is like having a best friend who never has to go home at the end of the day, who'll always be there for you. Trust me on that one, all right?"

Still looking unsure, James nodded, and Ginny breathed a sigh of relief.

"Come along, then," said George, reaching out to lift James out of Ginny's lap. "Fred's been waiting all morning, and I'll tell you all about the fun I had with my brothers to show you that they aren't that bad, really."


"I hate you!"

Hate is a very strong word, Ginny knew, but she'd long since learned to let it go when her boys got started. She sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter as she glanced out the window. James was six and growing like a weed, and Albus was three, all elbows and knees. They wouldn't be her little boys forever, would they? Outside, Albus raised a bucket of sand from the pit and dumped it over his brother's head, and James responded by kicking the sandcastle they'd been building until it was a mishappen mound.

"I hate you more." Albus scowled. "You're mean."

"Awww, are you gonna cry?" James' voice was hard but his eyes glinted with mirth, and Ginny rolled her eyes. She had six brothers herself and was no stranger to these games, but she knew enough to keep an eye in case things got out of hand.

"No," Albus yelled, though his eyes were wet. Getting to his feet, he pushed his giggling brother into the sand and stomped towards the backdoor, and Ginny grabbed a pair of pudding cups from the fridge before going to meet him half-way.

"I hate him," said Albus. "I don't want a brother."

Ginny shook her head before ruffling his hair, watching as James minced closer, looking unsure of himself. Only when he was close enough to sling an arm around his brother's shoulders did he make a sound, and the words were a muttered apology that ended when Albus nudged him in the rubs. Ginny watched as the peace lasted all of five seconds, and then they were arguing again, this time over who had the bigger pudding cup, even though both were the same size. I hate you, yelled one, and she wasn't quite sure which it was, but sometimes, you had to listen to more than just words.

And, for her sons, hate was never really what it meant.


"I hate you."

Ginny sighed as she climbed the stairs, hearing her youngest son's voice echoing down the landing. A door slammed, and when she reached the top of the stairs, she saw James storming past her, obviously off to sulk in his room.

"Absolutely not, young man," she said, grasping him by the collar and steering him along with her.

"Let me go," he whined, trying to pull away, but she fixed him with a look. Falling silent, he followed her, though he dragged his feet and whined with every step.

Eventually, they reached Albus' door, and she pushed open the door without knocking. Her youngest son sat cross-legged on his bed with a book in his lap, and he smiled at her as she walked in. Then, he caught sight of his brother, and he glared.

"Right," said Ginny, suddenly feeling very tired. "This is ridiculous. The two of you have been carrying on like this since you got off the train, and you're going to either tell me what's wrong or I'll lock you both in this room until you make up."

"Why don't you ask him?" asked Albus, glaring daggers at his brother. Gritting his teeth, Albus yanked up his shirt, and Ginny gasped. Her son's midriff was covered in a mottled collection of bruises, and a few minutes later, he had pulled out his wand. When he flicked it and removed the glamour on his face, Ginny's blood began to boil. A black eye? Oh, she knew the boys fought, but she'd never thought it would be this bad.

"Who did that to you?"

Ginny paused, because she had not asked the question. At her side, James sounded livid, and his hands were trembling, but there was a flicker of something in his eye that she simply couldn't place.

"Don't act as if you don't know." Albus snorted. "They're your friends."

"Not anymore," hissed James, storming from the room. Ginny stood there, pursing her lips, before shaking her head and taking a seat on her son's bed.

"Right, let's patch you up then, and when we're done, you're going to tell me exactly what's been going on at school, and I'll be writing Minerva tomorrow morning."

That night, however, when she woke to use the bathroom, she heard muffled whispers coming from Albus' room. Softly, she padded her across the landing, and peered in through the half-opened door.

James sat at the edge of the bed, speaking in a soft voice. Albus nodded along, talking as well, which was surprising, given that they usually didn't have such civil conversations. Suddenly, Albus was sitting up, pulling his brother into one of the most awkward hugs she'd ever seen. Listening closely, Ginny tried to fight the urge to go and find her camera.

"You're my brother," James whispered. "Next time someone gives you trouble, you come right to Gryffindor Tower and tell me, you hear? Nobody gets to mess with you but me."

Ginny felt a slight smile tug at the corners of her lips.


"I hate you," James groused.

Ginny sighed as she walked into the kitchen, and she rolled her eyes at the sight that awaited her. Albus was standing on the table, clutching a letter up where his brother couldn't reach it, and James was fuming into his cereal.

"Mom," exclaimed Albus, a shit-eating grin on his face as he thrust the letter in her face. "Jamie has a girlfriend."

"I do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Albus, please get off the table before you break it, and apologise to your brother. It's not nice to read his mail."

Albus rolled his eyes as he handed her the letter, and he lightly hopped off the table. Slinging an arm around James' shoulder, he ruffled his brother's hair.

"Sorry, mate, but you were asking for it."

"I'm going to tell Mom what you get down to in the dungeons," he replied, shoving his brother off him, and Ginny raised an eyebrow. There was a playful glint in James' eye, and a sudden look of horror in Albus'.

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

"Please don't."


"They really do hate each other, don't they?" asked Neville, settling into the seat beside her.

"All brothers do," replied Ginny with a wan smile. "It doesn't mean they love each other any less."

Just as she spoke, James swung his bat, the bludger all but knocking Albus off his broom as it caught the younger boy in the shoulder. Glaring, Albus whirled, and he spun in midair. The bludger caught on the back of his broom, and shot right back at James.

Ginny's heart leapt to her throat as James barely dodged, and she saw the feral grin spreading across his mouth as he took off after his brother, hounding him for the rest of the game.

"It's fine, it really is," she said, more to herself than to Neville. "Nobody knows Albus' tricks better than James, and he's just doing his job trying to keep Al from getting the snitch."

"Honestly, Ginny, Minerva is quite ready to suspend them both from their teams. This isn't the first match that they've made their grudge known."

Ginny shook her head and returned her focus to the game. Gryffindor was leading, of course, but Slytherin hadn't yet lost a match this season, and she knew that Albus was just as good a seeker as Harry had been all those years ago.

Then, she shrieked.

A bludger, not the one James had been beating, caught Albus in the chest, and knocked him off his broom. For a split second, he hung in midair, and then he was falling. Beside her, Neville was fumbling for his wand, but suddenly, a scarlet blur whizzed through the air.

James caught Albus at the last minute, breaking his fall, and a minute later, both boys went tumbling to the ground as James crashed. Albus crawled to his hands and knees, retching, and James slowly climbed to his feet, reaching down to lay a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder.

"You see," said Ginny as she climbed to her feet and hurried down to check if her boys were all right, Neville in tow. "There's a fine line between love and hate, Neville, and my sons tend to tread it quite closely."


"I hate you," whined James. Weakly, he shoved out a hand to push Albus away, but his brother barely budged.

Ginny paused, her arms heavy with laundry. They're at it again. One would think that the flu would be enough to bring some semblance of peace to the Potter house, but then again, her sons had never been peaceful. Idly, she wondered if she would have to break up another argument as she often did.

"Yeah, I know. I hate you too, Jay," replied Albus. "Now, you going to take your potion or do I have to cram it down your throat?"

"You wouldn't," said James. "It tastes worse than Polyjuice."

Polyjuice? Ginny frowned. She'd have to speak to Harry about that one. Mischief was one thing, but James was barely old enough to be handling potions as dangerous as that, let alone knowing what it tasted like.

"I absolutely would," said Albus. "Life's no fun with you sick, you know."

"Careful." James coughed. "You'll make me think you actually care, git."

The brief sounds of a scuffle broke out behind the closed door, and Ginny raised a hand to the handle. Their sniping was one thing, but James hadn't been able to keep his food in his stomach for the past day and a half. Really, what was Albus thinking?

"Fine, I'm drinking it," snapped James, and Ginny froze, her fingers closed around the handle.

"Was that so hard?"

"You pinned me down and stuck the bottle in my mouth!"

Ginny could almost hear Albus roll his eyes through the closed door.

"Well if you weren't such a big baby about taking your medicine..." said Albus.

"I hate you," muttered James. "Don't think I'm going to help you out when you're sick."

(And, it's three days later when Ginny passes the bathroom only to see James perched on the edge of the bathtub, one hand fisted in his brother's hair to keep to keep it out of his face as Albus throws up into the toilet.")


"I hate you," said Albus, though his eyes were a bit wet as he pushed his brother aside.

"I warned you that she was bad news, Al," said James in a tight voice, which Ginny did not miss as she watched them from the top of the stairs.

They were sitting in the living room, and from what she'd gathered from Lily, Albus's girlfriend was a cheating slag. Her daughter's words, not hers, and for a moment she paused to wonder how many more grey hairs she'd have by now if Lily had been as much of a handful as James and Albus were.

"Yeah, I guess you did." Albus looked up at his brother and punched him lightly in the shoulder. "But, I still hate you for letting me find out from Scotty Wood of all people that Caitlyn was sneaking into the Gryffindor boys' dorms."

"How was I supposed to have known?" asked James, his jaw twitching as he spoke. "There are, like, seven dorm rooms, and you know I sleep like the dead."

Ginny made sure that they could hear her when she finally began to make her way down the stairs. Her boys were growing up, and she had a feeling that they both wouldn't appreciate their mother becoming involved in their romantic endeavours, and so she'd let them have a slight warning that she was on her way.

Besides, she thought with a sigh, they truly did hate it when other people caught them being friendly.


"I fucking hate you," roared Albus as he burst through the front door of the Burrow, and before Ginny could react, he had launched himself onto his brother and punched him in the face.

James yelled, though Ginny did not miss the vaguely panicked look in his eye as he shoved Albus off him. Then, Albus hit him again, and this time, James returned the punch with one of his own.

They were on each other like, well, a lion and a snake, punching and kicking and rolling across the ground. An end table tipped over as James shoved Albus into it, and a second later, Albus had slammed his elbow into James' nose, breaking it.

Ginny could hear her mother screaming, and the door burst open before she could reach for her wand to try and force them apart. Harry and George tore into the room, searching for the commotion, and within seconds they'd dragged the boys apart and held them down.

"What in the name of Merlin is going on now?" asked Harry.

"Why don't you ask him?" Albus snarled, and Ginny was possessed with a strange sense of deja vu as she sank into a chair. She had seen the guilty look flicker across James' face, and already, she had begun to guess what the latest fight was about.

"I didn't mean to!" yelled James. "It just happened, all right!"

"And what, did it just happen the next few nights, as well? She was my girlfriend!"

Ginny sighed as she buried her face in her hands, not wanting to see her boys with blood dripping off their faces, squirming in George and Harry's grasps to have another go at each other, but she couldn't drown out the sound of the argument.

Somehow, she knew that the line that her boys had toed for so long had finally been crossed, and she didn't think that there would be any coming back from this…There would be no more midnight meetings and secret hugs, and the next time one of them got knocked off their broom, it might just be that the other would simply watch.


"I hate you," screamed James, hurling a hex in his brother's direction.

Almost lazily, Albus flicked his wand to knock the hex aside, and he grinned at his brother. The humor didn't quite reach his eyes, and he tossed back a hex off his own.

"Why? It just happened, all right?"

"I cannot believe you're still angry about that, for fuck's sake. It was two years ago. This is my job, Albus, my job!"

"Oh, boo hoo." Albus snorted. "Didn't you mention your boss wanted all that paperwork on his desk by morning. A shame. Well, you'll just have to rewrite it all tonight."

Ginny had heard and seen enough. Glaring, she entered the room, and with a flick of her wrist, disarmed them both. Neatly, she caught their wands in her hand and fixed them with a look that she hoped was reminiscent of her own mother's glare.

"For the love of Merlin, enough," she said, feeling nothing but defeat at the mutinous looks in their eyes. "You two aren't little boys anymore. You're grown men and I am sick and tired of this nonsense."

She was still speaking when Albus stormed upstairs, and James slammed the front door behind him on his way out. Ginny stared, gobsmacked, before sitting down on her couch and holding onto their wands.

She'd said it herself. They were grown men now, and she couldn't force them to hug and make-up like when they'd been kids.


"I still hate you, by the way," said James, though his tone was so much different than it had been a year ago when they'd both stormed away from her whilst she'd scolded them. Instead, and Ginny dared not hope, he sounded almost like he used to in the early years.

"The feeling is mutual, but let's be civil for our nephew. The poor kid is going to have a troubled life as it is, and his uncles throwing a scene at his christening won't do him any favours."

There was silence, and Ginny pursed her lips as she stared at the two young men sitting next to each other on the pew in front of her. It was striking how similar they were in both their appearance and mannerisms, despite the divide they'd carved between themselves. Every few minutes, they both ran a hand through their hair, though never at the same time. Where Albus wore his hospital pager at his waist, James wore his badge, and she knew very well that they both kept their wands holstered within their sleeves.

"Can you believe Lily named the kid Orion?" asked James, interrupting her musings, and to her surprise, Albus chuckled.

"Orion Narcissus Potter-Malfoy," said Albus. "I feel sorry for him, really. Why'd you think I said he's going to have a troubled enough life as it is?"

"And I thought your name was bad."

"Tsk. I was named for two of the bravest men Dad ever met. You were named for two goofballs who pulled a lot of pranks."

They fell silent again, when suddenly, Albus turned to look at his brother, looking a tad sheepish.

"Call me an idiot, but I've missed this."

James sighed, and gave his brother a light punch in the shoulder.

"Yeah, I have as well."


It was near midnight when she woke to Harry shaking her, and it was a few minutes later when she felt her heart break as he told her something that no mother should hear. Her eyes stung, and she dug her nails into her palms as she let her husband lead her to the fireplace.

It was a lie, it had to be, she thought, and the words were her mantra as the two of them rushed through St. Mungo's.

Because boys as young as twenty-seven weren't meant to die in the line of duty.


"I hate you," he screamed, and she heard glass shatter.

Ginny walked to her youngest son's bedroom and stood in the doorway, still dressed in the dress she'd worn to the cemetery. She swallowed as she took in the room. The windows were cracked, and the desk overturned. The bookshelf had been shoved, its contents strewn across the floor, and the pages of half-a-dozen books were torn and shredded.

There were marks in the wall, and broken things littering the floor, and hunched over the mantle with tears streaming down his face was Albus, still dressed in the bloodstained green robes of a healer.

Ginny blinked away her tears, the image so clear in her mind. Harry and her had burst into the ward, but the bed was empty, and the only person in the room was Albus. Sitting beside the empty bed, he'd simply shook his head with tears in his eyes before walking out.

"I hate you," Albus said again, shoving a frame to the ground. "I hate you so much."

The, for leaving me, was left unsaid.